


trying to convince myself (that it's alright living without it)

by nextraordinaire



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Hiking, M/M, Mountains, Research, Unicorns, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 11:11:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8665369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nextraordinaire/pseuds/nextraordinaire
Summary: Running from unicorns hadn’t been in the work description when Charles’d applied for the research position, but from reading all the reports about the ‘rather aggressive behavior’ they showed towards researchers in general, it shouldn’t have come as surprise.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tsubame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsubame/gifts).



> A longer fic, this year, but that's hopefully a good thing. It strays a little from the initial prompts, but it's a fantasy AU, so I hope you'll enjoy it nonetheless! Additional thanks to my two betas, [annejumps](http://archiveofourown.org/users/annejumps) and [BadLuckBlueEyes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/BadLuckBlueEyes/pseuds/BadLuckBlueEyes) for helping me with this monster of a fic. 
> 
> Warnings(?) in end notes!

It seemed the rain would never let up.

They were a good way into June, but with how overcast the sky was at four pm, it might as well be December. The humidity had caused his hair to curl up, and Charles tried not to think about the second blister forming on his right heel. He was slowly regretting borrowing Raven’s Caterpillar hiking boots. Erik had given him a tired look when he’d explained how they could be so worn out when he’d never done a proper excursion in his career, and that now seemed more warranted than it had then.

Behind him, Erik crashed through the heathers like a herd of elephants.

“You’re going to scare them away before we even have a chance of spotting one,” Charles said, stopping to look back over his shoulder.

Erik passed by him, long legs eating away at the ground. “If they haven’t heard us by now, you’re only going to find dead ones.”

Catching up, and ignoring how the blister rubbed against the edge of his sock, Charles held up his hand. “They may look to have evolved from horses, but they are not prey animals. They do have teeth and claws, and we think they're carnivores. Just like your gryphons.”

“If so, then they’re certainly only more intrigued by us making more noise.” Erik raised his eyebrows, and gave Charles a small smirk. “No?”

Unsure, Charles decided to return it. “Right. Can we have a look at the map?”

Charles took out the map from his back pocket and crouched down to shield the albeit laminated paper from the rain with his body. Erik flipped the map over, his internal compass making the correction  – one of the less selfish reasons Charles wanted him around.

“We’re here,” Charles pointed at the plateau closest to the mountain. “They’re said to reside on this, or the other side, so the question is: should we push forward or set camp now?”

“Rain is supposed to let up in two hours, and light is out about then too,” Erik noted. “So we have time to try and round down to the valley to find forest again. Provides a bit of shelter.”

Charles made a non-committal noise. “Two hours seems good. Perhaps it’s better to stay visible? They like to stay on the mountainsides, and if we have a good lookout, it’s a bigger chance of catching  sight of them with the binoculars.”

“The tent can handle most things if we secure it properly.” There was a beat of silence, while Erik considered him with a frown. “You don’t think we will see them any closer?”

Charles grimaced. “Well, no. That horn is not to be played with, and I don’t want to risk being skewered out of hubris. And it’s not like any of us is a virgin.”

“I thought that was just old, misogynistic lore,” Erik said, a tightness around his eyes.

Charles shook his head. “It’s one of the few things all researchers agree on. Only virgins can come close enough.”

“So why didn’t you bring someone else?”

Rising from his crouch, rolling the map up again, Charles shrugged. “It’s unethical. Asking about sexual status is quite frowned upon. Especially in an educational setting.”

“Right,” came Erik’s answer as they started walking again.

 

* * *

 

They stopped for the day when it became apparent the rain wouldn’t let up, despite the forecast. Still out on the moor, they had stumbled across a little creek, so the spot was as good as it was going to get.

With the tent finally up, Erik hammered down two metal poles where they attached one end of the tarpaulin, attaching the other to the tent and creating a makeshift windbreak where they could stoke a fire.  Dinner was heated Chef Boyardee’s and no matter how many gourmet dinners you’d been to, reheated ravioli after a fourteen-hour hike would taste like ambrosia no matter what.

“I’ll take this down to wash,” Erik said once Charles had scraped the bowl clean. It was only the manners beaten into him from childhood that prevented him from licking it.

Away from the fire it was now proper dark. Charles gave him a long look. “You don’t want me to come with you?”

Erik’s mouth turned downwards, the grip on their utensils going tight. “No. You can go to bed. I’ll put out the fire,” he said, and disappeared without another word; the splash interrupting the murmuring of the creek giving any indication that he was still there.

Charles looked after him for a moment, before he did as told. The light from the fire shone through the canvas, and inside the light was red and warm. Opening his pack, Charles finally pulled off his drenched rain coat and searched out the woolen sweater he knew was in there somewhere. He had only the vaguest clue what was in his pack, since he’d let Raven do the honors of packing it. After all, she was the most experienced field worker of them all.

While Erik was knowledgeable as well, asking him would probably just have blown up in Charles’ face, with how Erik had been acting lately. Sighing, Charles sat down on his bedroll and pulled off his boots. They seemed like they’d been going somewhere, until just a month ago, when Erik had suddenly gone cold and stiff – despite the excursion and the plane tickets already being booked and done.

Charles had no idea what had happened.

Raven had been honest when she’d said she’d newly doused her shoes in impregnating agent, so his feet were still dry and warm, but there was a wet patch on the back of his right heel. Not daring to peel it off, Charles poked at it – and hissed when a flare of pain raced up his up his leg and out to his toes. Even after he let it be, the sore pulsed, making his entire foot throb.

No other option but to treat it. Gritting his teeth, Charles pulled the sock off with a determination usually reserved for wax strips and band-aids – nearly biting his tongue off at the pain. Taking a deep breath, he reached for his pack again.

As he did, the tent flap unzipped, catching him off guard. Erik appeared in the back light from the fire. His eyes were a bit wide – Charles accidentally caught a distinct spike of surprise – before his gaze fell to Charles’ bare foot.

“What are you doing.”

Sighing, Charles scratched his head. “Damage control, it appears.”

Erik raised his eyebrows, the frown disappearing. “Did your blister pop?”

He didn’t even sound surprised. “Yes.” Charles grimaced. “You may say I told you so, if you feel so inclined.”

There was a bit of a smile playing at the edge of Erik’s mouth, but that was all in terms of gloating. “Give it here.”

Out of pure instinct, Charles pulled his foot closer almost protectively. “Why now?”

“Let me clean it.” Erik shrugged, taking something from his pack. “You won’t be able to clean it properly yourself.”

“I’m pretty certain I know how to clean a sore, Erik.”

“It’ll hurt too much to get all the dirt out.” Erik held out his hand. “Want it to get infected?”

Still a bit unsure, Charles stretched his foot over to Erik’s sleeping pad. “Sounds like you know what you’re doing,” he said. “Perhaps talking from experience? No need to lie, you know. We were all new once, I won’t judge.”

Erik stiffened, but his shoulders loosened almost immediately as Charles held out the first-aid kit he’d fetched from his own bag. He shrugged. “Me and Mom used to walk trails over summer break. Both in the Appalachians and in Canada. Used to have new boots each year since my feet grew so much.”

Leaning his head on the hand braced on his knee, Charles pictured a twelve-year-old Erik getting his sores treated like this by Edie. He smiled. “New boots equals blisters.”

Ripping open the packet of an antiseptic wet wipe, Erik nodded. “They’re dependent variables, you might say. Which I thought you’d realize goes for other people’s worn ones.”

“This is my first excursion,” Charles reminded him, trying not to look as Erik took his ankle in a steady hand that was a bit calloused, but dry and warm, turning it to find his heel. The feel of Erik’s palm on his skin had Charles biting his tongue not to ask what had happened between them.

How it had come this far from when they started.

“Your sister is a dragon hunter. Some things should be passed down in the family,” Erik pointed out.

At that Charles just shook his head. “Perhaps, but she’s not as – _bloody_ hell!”

Hissing, Charles dug his fingers into the sleeping pad when Erik placed the antiseptic against the open sore, causing a burning sensation radiating up his leg. He mentally patted himself on the back for not screaming like a banshee.

Thankfully, Erik didn’t comment. Just cleaned the sore with broad strokes to get all the pus out and put a band-aid on it. “All done,” he said. “Should we tape the other one for good measure?”

Charles’ heel was still throbbing. In the flickering light from the fire just outside, Erik’s hair shone red. The curve of his jaw was more prominent than ever; the tick at the corner of his mouth too. For a moment, Charles’ breath caught in his throat. He swallowed, but something must’ve shown on his face, since Erik’s mouth thinned again.

The hand on his ankle disappeared.

“Well, you know what to do now,” was all Erik said, voice flat. “I’ll put out the fire.”

He crawled out of the tent, leaving the tent flap unzipped.

Outside, the scuff of Erik’s boots against the heathers faded, furthering the distance as much as he could without it getting dangerous for either of them.

Cursing, Charles leaned his head against his knee. Every time. Every damned time there was the slightest little sliver of a chance of something more than just conversation and the brush of hands, Erik closed off and pulled away as if burned. Charles had no idea what he did. He was more aware of his shields than he’d ever been since the time Erik had requested that he’d stay out of his mind as much as possible, and he never even touched Erik unprompted.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Charles pulled off his other sock and taped his uninjured heel. A bit clumsy and loose and far from as good as when Erik had done it, he soon gave up and fastened the gauze properly. Then he got changed and crawled into his sleeping bag. It was a bit cold against his body, but it’d warm up.

He was nearly asleep when he heard footsteps coming closer over the heathers. Then, the unmistakable sound of a bucket of water on the fire, a beat of silence, before Erik entered the tent as well. It was pitch black at that point, so Charles wouldn’t have seen anything even if he’d wanted to turn around. Instead, he waited until the rustle of Erik’s sleeping bag ended with the telltale thump of a body against the forest floor. For a moment, he did nothing. Simply closed his eyes and listened to the pattering of rain, the quiet hum of magic radiating up from the mountain beneath them. Listened to Erik’s breath slowing down; getting deeper, calming down instead of getting caught high up in his chest.

Charles swallowed.

“Good night,” he said, soft.

Erik stiffened again; noticeable in how the rustling stopped, the way he stopped breathing, and then letting out his breath through his teeth. Whistling and faint.  But then, after a slight pause that felt longer than it probably was,

“Good night, Charles.”

 

* * *

 

Rain was still pattering against the tent when Charles opened his eyes. With his nose numb from the chill, he squinted at the morning light filtering in, tinted and muted through the canvas. Taking a breath, the crisp mountain air forcing itself into his lungs, Charles sat up; feeling a twinge in his back, and a familiar ache in his thighs.

To his left, Erik was emphatically asleep, only his face and crook of his arm visible. He was snoring lightly, the permanent frown almost smoothed away in sleep, making him look younger than he ever did awake. Much less troubled. It was tempting to reach out and smooth out the lingering wrinkles, but –  

Nothing good would come of that.

Taking the woolen sweater from his pack, Charles donned his dry raincoat and unzipped the tent flap. Mist lay heavy over the clearing, now making the magic of the place shiver in the air. For the people in the cities, it was understandable that magic seemed like a foreign concept. It wasn’t present in daily life like it had been a hundred years ago, now replaced by technology, and Charles didn’t blame anyone for losing contact with it.

However, coming out here, up into the mountains, the magic itself was so present, so opaque, it seemed impossible that it could’ve fallen from grace at all.

Lacing the boots, Charles took the magic-sensitive amulet supplied from the faculty and searched out some non-magic wood. Accidentally lighting a fairy’s hoard of beetles on fire was not worth the life-long curse it’d cost you. After half an hour, he’d found enough and began with breakfast. Most of the wood had been shielded by the heathers – leaving it dry and snapping when the flames got to it.

By the time Erik emerged from the tent, dark circles under his eyes and a bit of stubble making him even more handsome than ever, the water was boiling.

Charles tried not to grimace at him. “Morning,” he said, taking the pot off the heat to pour in some of the coffee grounds. “Slept well?”

Erik scrubbed a hand over his face and sat down, “Is it done?” he grunted.

“Almost,” Charles replied, but bit his tongue and kept quiet about the quiet frustration radiating out of Erik’s mind.

They ate in silence, and with breakfast over, Charles went to wash dishes as Erik started to disassemble the tent. Mountain creeks had some of the cleanest water in the world, running straight from the glaciers higher up. When the dishes were clean, Charles put the pots away for a moment to drink. Leaning down, he cupped his hands, the cold of the water nipping at his fingertips, when he caught sight of something further up.

A branch lay across the creek, its bark almost black from the time it’d spent submerged in water. On one of the twigs was a small sampling of silver white, shimmering hair.

Closing his hand around the amulet around his neck, Charles felt the amethyst pulse.

On his feet in an instant, he grabbed the washed pots and sprinted back to the camp. Erik was crouched on the ground, stuffing the tent poles into the bag they came in, but he looked up when he saw Charles.

“Erik,” Charles asked, trying to gather his breath. “Did you see something last night?”

Erik didn’t stop packing, and instead gave Charles a long look. “What?”

“Down by the creek. There’s unicorn hair stuck in a branch. Was it there when you did the dishes last night?”

The skin around Erik’s eyes got tight, as he shook his head. “No, it was too dark to see anything.”

Charles nodded, and pulled out the dish rag from a side pocket of his bag. “I just find it a bit odd that I didn’t wake up.” Unicorns should, according to other reports, bring with them a surge of magic comparable to a migraine. “Feel like that should’ve woken at least one of us.”

“Perhaps,” came Erik’s reply as he started folding the outer canvas to be fit back into its bag.

“That it came this close as well! I mean, they shy from the smell of corruption, after all.”

At that, Erik snorted. “Are you that corrupted, you mean?”

Charles shrugged. “To unicorns, all kinds of sex is corrupting. Perhaps even gluttony or greed; the opinions differ region to region.”

“So you do consider yourself corrupted,” Erik said, so softly Charles had to strain his ears to hear it.

“By unicorn standards, yes, I definitely am,” Charles breathed out a laugh. “Having any sort of impure desires you act upon ultimately means you’re judged on the same scale as the devil, it seems.”

Erik had his back towards him, so there was no way of telling what was going on on his face. But Charles could tell it was something far more ominous than the rest of the conversation. When Charles was about to ask if he wanted help with the canvas, Erik’s head turned and he looked at Charles with that same haggard, almost sad look as he’d had in the tent last night.

“It doesn’t make you corrupted,” he said, so softly it verged on inaudible.

It took Charles completely off guard. “I, uh, well. Thank you.”

Erik simply shook his head in amusement, as he folded the canvas one last time to fit it in the bag. It was still wet; the rain hadn’t let up all morning, but it was going to be taken out and gotten wet again soon enough. Every piece of their equipment was damp and soggy, and it would certainly smell disgusting by the time they came home. Such was the excursion life, it seemed.

“Do we investigate the hair?” Erik shook the bag to get the whole folded-up canvas down. “Or head towards the mountain?”

Charles reached down and hauled up his backpack. “Investigate. That hair has some interesting magic capabilities, that perhaps can give us more knowledge of contained magic. And, they don’t seem to have too much against our smell, so I’m willing to risk that skewering.”

“If they came this close without hurting us, it should be fine, no?” Erik supplied as he too put his pack on his shoulders.

Charles made a non-committal noise. “Perhaps, but it might be a rabid one and they are known to be docile one moment, and aggressive in the next.”

They checked their site one last time so as to not have left any waste behind, before they went down to the creek again and crossed it. Once on the other side, Charles crouched down on the creek bed. It was neither ideal hiking nor tracking conditions, what with the relentless rain and all, but if there was one fortunate thing with all the wet, it was that it left the creek bed soft and malleable.

Scanning his eyes over the mud, Charles only had to search for a minute or two before finding a row of small, heart-shaped paw prints in the mud. Five in total; the broadest side pointing towards the slope.

“Seems like we’re heading up that mountain after all,” Charles called over his shoulder as he rose from his crouch. “There are paw prints all along the creek bed here.”

With a nod, Erik stuffed the map back in the side pocket of his backpack, and they set off down in the valley separating them from the heather-covered mountainside; Erik taking the lead up the animal path snaking its way through rocks and small creeks, Charles falling in behind him.

The rain petered out into a drizzle, filling the air and making it easier to breathe as their feet scuffed against the dirt. On the unused trails, any motion made small pebbles roll down the hill, creating a rhythm together with the rain and their breaths. As they climbed up a gathering of rocks, Charles fixed his eyes on the back of Erik’s head. A part of him, the selfish and childish one, wanted nothing more than to break down Erik’s walls and look behind his natural resistance to all psionic mutations.

Not to be petty or mean, just simply to understand what had gone wrong.

What he’d _done_ wrong.

People often thought themselves and their thoughts to be utterly unique and interesting, which was not the case. Eavesdropping mostly meant listening to people worrying about one thing or another, or making plans.

Erik’s mind was one of the most fascinating and delicately arranged places Charles had seen and could spend an eternity exploring, but he’d never enter uninvited. Instead, he’d increased his shields whenever he’d knock on Erik’s door to ask him if he wanted to come and eat lunch.

Erik had never declined, even when Charles had made no indication that he truly had kept his shields up and tight.

Neither did he seem to truly have any trouble with physical contact. Charles was aware he could certainly be more than appropriately tactile with people he was attracted to, but it was also something he could tone down on. Case in point: Moira hadn’t appreciated when he’d been touching her in public even when they’d tried being a couple, so he’d stopped. Of course, that part of their relationship had had other troubles, but that hadn’t been one. And Erik had never pulled away when Charles had hooked his ankles across his under the table, nor made any sort of objection against it.

Until recently.

For a while, Charles had wondered whether or not that had been the issue: Erik not trusting him to not listen. Which, he’d come to the conclusion one afternoon, was simply ridiculous. They had enough debates that simply wouldn’t work unless you truly listened to your partner, for good or bad deeds.

“Up or around?”

In front of him, Erik had reached a steep climb, and turned around with a questioning look.

“Up,” Charles said with absolute certainty.

With a nod, Erik reached up and found a good grip, moving fluidly as he pulled himself up. He’d pushed up the sleeves of his undershirt, and even in the overcast light, it was impossible not to watch the muscles play under his skin when he hoisted himself over the edge of the rock. Charles found himself unable to look away, and he had to swallow a few times to get saliva back into his mouth.

Once he was up, Erik looked down from his perch. “Need help?” he said, grinning, before he seemed to catch himself. The smile sunk back into his face and something hot, prickly and inexplicable bloomed in Charles' chest.

He pushed up his own sleeves and found a good grip on the rocks. “No,” he gritted, “I’ve got it.”

Sharp edges dug into his skin, deep enough to cut off blood flow, but it was a good pain; one that took the edge of that something else. Erik had had his height on his side, but with a bit of clever footwork, Charles found a crevice to to put his foot in. With his dignity and bones intact, he pulled himself over the edge, panting, but resisting the urge to sit down. Instead, he put his hands on his knees and looked out over the breathtaking view of the valley.

A coat of green, with spots of lilac from the abundant heathers, as well as a few dots of dark, indicating the holes of unicorn burrows. It was too foggy to say anything with clarity, but there was some sort of movement catching his eye. Squinting, Charles looked at the slope, trying not to let his own brain deceive him due to the altitude and the exertion of pulling himself up around the outcrop.

Instead, he sank down onto one knee and located his binoculars from his pack and focused in on where the movement had been. For a second, he didn't see anything. But then, a dash of white confirmed his suspicion. “I see one.”

There was a rustle, and then Erik had sunk down beside him. “Where?” he muttered, and Charles hoped he was reaching for his camera.

“Top right corner of the slope, near the big rock,” Charles whispered back, following the small animal as it made its way down the slope. “See, it’s right beneath it now?”

For a second, Erik didn’t say anything. Then there was the tell-tale click of a camera shutter closing, and Charles breathed out. Now they had at least one decent picture of a unicorn to bring back with them. It was another one of the less selfish reasons he’d brought Erik with him in the first place – the man knew how to take good photos even in conditions such as these. There were many others of course, but most of them boiled down to wanting Erik by his side. Which it had seemed Erik had wanted too, at the time he’d asked. But just a week later, the odd behavior had begun.

Between the two of them, Charles directed Erik with cues where the unicorn was going coming down the slope. He was so engrossed in following its movement – how it ambled, instead of cantering, like most reports said they moved –  that it didn’t register to him where it seemed to be going.

At least not until it actually reached the bottom of the slope and started trotting upwards.

Dropping the binoculars, only the strap around his neck stopping them from being crushed to smithereens on the rocks below, Charles slowly unfolded from his crouch – and watched as the unicorn seemed to be coming right towards them. Reaching out, he pulled his backpack on at the same time he grabbed Erik’s shoulder.

“I think it’s coming for us,” he whispered harshly. “Get up slowly, get your pack. We’ll need to go higher.”

Erik nodded under his hand, so Charles let go. The wall behind them was steep, and not for the inexperienced. Taking a last look with his binoculars, Charles only needed a close-up look to make a decision. The small creature with its four feet long horn – that could cut through diamonds –  was coming closer by the minute, far too close for comfort

Especially with clawed paws enabling easy climbing.

Backpack secured, Charles reached out to the closest crevice he saw and pulled himself up, wedging a foot into another. In the corner of his eye, he could see Erik was doing the same. The steep was craggy enough that he soon had worked up a rhythm, blood rushing in his ears and fingers aching from holding onto the slick stones. While it was climbable, to claim it easy was foolish. Even knowing the unicorn was coming closer, Charles had to stop a few times to catch his breath and plan his way up.

He could see Erik ahead of him, his farther reach giving him advantage once more. “Is it still behind us?” Erik kicked the wall to get his attention, panting with rain dripping from his nose.

One of the first things taught in climbing was to never look down. No matter if you suffered from vertigo or enjoyed _l’appel du vide_ , it was devastating to do unless you were desperate to find foothold. So even though Charles wanted to look, he resisted the urge.

“No idea,” he hissed, honest. “It just wants us off the breeding grounds, so if – “ Charles took a new grip, and spit out a mouthful of rain water, “ – we gain another ten in altitude, we should be fine.”

Erik’s only reply was a sharp grunt as he climbed around the outcrop, getting close to the top. Charles did as well, quietly cursing how badly he’d hurt tomorrow. But no matter how bad he hurt or ached, it was better than being skewered by a creature many still considered ‘adorable’.

Up here, the wind was getting stronger, making the vertigo of looking down all the much worse. Pulling himself over the edge, Charles quickly rolled over to take a look. A long way down, even below the first outcrop, the unicorn was still pacing back and forth – not seeming like it was going to try and follow them at all.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Charles took a look around. Once again, they’d found themselves on a mountainside, covered in heathers and next to a creek. There were fewer heathers than before, perhaps, but the view was just as stunning, only from another angle.

“Did you see it?” Erik titled his head up from his sprawl on the ground.

Charles leaned back on his hands, shaking his head. “It’s still not over the first outcrop. I don’t think it’ll follow us either. Seemed a little indecisive, to be honest.”

Erik tried to snort, but it came out weak due to his breath still coming in rushes. “Rushed up here for nothing, then.”

“Better safe than skewered, no?”

“I guess,” Erik replied, grinning and Charles leaned in over his knees.

Running from unicorns hadn’t been in the work description when he’d applied for the research position, but from reading all the reports about the ‘rather aggressive behaviour’ they showed towards researchers in general, it shouldn’t have come as surprise. Really, it was a question about how brave or stupid they were, but Erik didn’t say it. The measurement of sanity was slightly different when you shared workspace with people like Raven and Betsy; women who willingly threw themselves off cliff sides to get the perfect shot of a dragon taking flight.

Charles also recalled that no report had ever documented a unicorn coming as close as they had. So, leaving this opportunity behind because of some, if still rational, a bit hypothetical fear, was not scientific at all.

“If it’s alright with you, I’d rather stay. I’d say we’re quite safe here,” Charles said, lifting his head from his knees. “With the altitude, it’ll make them waste more energy to chase after us and attack than to stay put and protect their burrows.”

It was as much something he said to himself to calm his racing heart as it was reassurance to Erik, who gingerly rolled over to his front and pushed himself up. “Fine,” he said, brushing off the grass sticking to his damp trousers. “But we should set up camp away from that,” he added, pointing at the steep they’d just climbed up.

“That I can get behind,” Charles said, and when Erik held out a hand to pull him to his feet, Charles took it without questioning why.

 

* * *

 

While it was still early in the day, studying unicorns was all they had planned to do, so they set camp. Moving further in would ultimately be counterproductive with the unicorns just across the valley. Raven usually lamented how lazy her fellow researchers could be  – nevermind that Alex had actually caught pneumonia while they were in the Himalayas and couldn’t move for more than three hours a day without risking permanent damage.

She was quite ruthless, according to rumors, and Charles didn’t object.

Erik usually followed her line of thinking, but he hadn’t made a noise about it as they’d pitched the tent, and for that Charles was immensely grateful. Setting camp early meant he could actually start to tentatively document what they’d seen. He’d tried to write some of it down yesterday, but the darkness hadn’t made it easy. Neither had his mood after Erik had stormed out, as he was wont to nowadays.

Gathering rainwater would be enough for their bottles, but not for doing dishes, so Erik had gone down to the creek to fill them up. Whether it was to be alone for the sake of being alone, or to escape him, Charles didn’t know and didn’t question.

He was just closing the ziplock bag of unicorn hair when a sound came from outside the tent. For a second, it sounded just like the wind passing through, but as he listened more carefully, he heard it again.

Charles stopped. A soft sound that didn’t sound as if it could come from a creature, and yet –

Without thinking, he stuck his feet in Raven’s boots. Didn’t bother to lace them, and stumbled into the downpour; raincoat forgotten as he ran towards the creek. The camp was set on a bit of elevated ground, and there was a slope down to the creek which obscured his view.

But there was no doubt there was a unicorn on the other side. With Erik.

So as not to scare either of them and cause Erik to take a literal hit for research he wasn’t even properly involved in, Charles dropped to his knees. Blood rushed in his ears and there was a faint taste of blood in his mouth as he crawled forward the last bit, peeking over the edge of the little hill and down towards the creek.

Charles first caught sight of Erik’s magenta-colored raincoat. He was crouched at the closest edge of the creek, unnervingly still with dinner pots forgotten beside him, his eyes honed in on the unicorn studying him from the other side of the creek. It wasn’t the same one that had chased them up the mountain. This individual was smaller, and the pattern of spots on its flanks indicated a female. Usually, the people who had gotten photographs of unicorns at all had caught the angry snarl of a big, pearly white male hell-bent on chasing all people and other creatures off the breeding grounds once and for all.

Females were known to be more docile, waiting in their burrows until the males had done their chasing. However, it meant very little was known about them.

Gripping his binoculars, Charles looked closer at the unicorn. She hadn’t moved, and she didn’t have her fangs out. Just as the tail wasn’t swishing back and forth in a way that indicated anger, or even fear. But, somehow, Charles felt that would change for the worse if he tried to distract it to get Erik out of there.

Before he’d figured out what to do, the unicorn ambled over the stream. Without hesitation, she went right up to Erik, studying him. Then she dragged her muzzle over his head, bringing the hood of his raincoat down as she sniffed him.

The sharp horn hovered above Erik’s head, only moving slightly even as the unicorn moved her head back and forth –  as if she wanted to make sure she didn’t do any harm in the process of whatever she was doing.

Erik didn’t move a muscle. Even with the looking glass, Charles couldn’t see him doing as much as breathing. The unicorn stepped away, snorting loudly like a horse. She tilted her head, studying Erik with one dark eye before she lowered her horn, touching it to Erik’s forehead. Then she turned around, tail swishing, and ambled back over the creek, down the slope and out of sight.

Taking the binoculars from his eyes, Charles swallowed. His mouth felt dry as he scrubbed his hand over his eyes.

The only way –  the only documented way –  to make a unicorn act non-aggressively, much less docile, was if you were somehow uncorrupted. It meant different things in different places of the world, but it was a universally accepted that the only people who were, in the eyes of a unicorn, worthy of being on their land were – virgins.

No one, not since the 15th century at least, had documented a full-on blessing. Usually because nowadays, all research was done by adrenaline junkies a good way into their thirties and older. A demographic that usually didn’t include –

Charles shook his head, and sighed. If it was true –  there was no way that it _wasn’t_ – it explained quite a lot. Not everything, no. It didn’t explain the way Erik had actually seemed eager at first. However, Erik wasn’t someone who’d go along with something he didn’t want, unless forced. While Charles took pride in being persuasive, exerting force was another matter. Even for such a small thing as inviting himself into Erik’s space when he was clearly unwanted.

On the other hand, there hadn’t been any indication that Erik didn’t want him there until just a month ago.

Suddenly, Erik got up. Grabbing the pots, he rose from his crouch headed up over the slope. Charles didn’t have time to move before he was upon him.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other; Erik’s eyes widened, his face going white and mouth thin. Even after years of trying to teach himself facial expressions, there was no way Charles could match the emotions on Erik’s face to the thunderous noise of his mind.

He opened his mouth. “Erik, I – “

Erik lips pulled back from his teeth. “Don’t say anything.”

“Are you – “

“I said _don’t_ ,” Erik said, voice deadly and stalked away towards their camp, pots slamming against each other. Charles stumbled to his feet in an instant, running up and grabbing Erik’s arm.

“How did you do that?”

Spinning around, Erik faced him. His eyes were wild, and even with his shields up, the force of his anger pushed at them, nearly breaking them down.

“It’s exactly what you think, Charles,” he said through his teeth. “Take a fucking guess.”

Frowning, Charles shook him a bit. “Why didn’t you tell me? We could have – ”

“What should I have told you?” Erik’s voice was hoarse, and the skin around his eyes was so tight it seemed close to breaking. “There’s nothing to tell!”

“Obviously, there is. It wouldn’t have come as close to you if you weren’t a – “

“You have no right to know.” Erik tried to get free again; pulling at his arm. “Let go of me.”

“No.” Charles held on a little harder, keeping Erik there. “No, not until you tell me why you kept it a secret. Is this why you’ve been so distant lately? You were afraid I’d find out?”

Erik snorted. “No, absolutely not,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m very proud of it, I’ll have you know.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Charles told him. “People much older are as well, and have no plans to change it.”

For a second, something flitted over Erik’s face.Then he jerked his arm free of Charles’ grip. “You say that, because you’re always getting what you want, no matter what,” he hissed, and then headed towards their camp.

Charles didn’t try to follow.

 

* * *

 

When he’d made his way back, Charles had found that Erik had put out his backpack beside the fire, and zipped the tent flap closed. Charles figured it was best to leave him be. He didn’t situate himself outside the tent like a guard dog, though, but instead took his binoculars and camera and sat down by the edge of the precipice.

Now knowing Erik’s scent probably masked his own, it wasn’t as much of a surprise to the see the activity of the unicorns on the mountain side.This close to summer, there were more than a couple foals out and running on the slope, the mares studying them from the openings of the burrows.

At one point, a mare herded back a small bunny towards the foals, obviously teaching them to stab it with their small, dagger-like horns. There was some observations claiming that unicorns were carnivores, but there had never been anything to claim it wasn’t rabid behavior exhibited only by lone roamers – until now. Charles emptied two whole memory cards just trying to capture it.

With the never-ending rain, dusk came quicker than at home. At six, it was so dark and foggy he wouldn’t get any more footage that wasn’t useless. As he packed up and headed back to camp, he could feel the resonanting magic of the mountain underfoot. There was a fire crackling outside the tent, and a pot of soup was being heated over it. A ziplock bag of bread lay beside it. Charles lifted the lid of the pot, and saw that while it was certainly eaten from, there was more than enough for another portion.

However, the tent flap was still zipped closed.

Pouring himself a helping, Charles looked away from the tent, studying the thickening veil of mist.

One look at Erik, and it was obvious that he was attractive. Charles knew he wasn’t the only one thinking so, if the minds of Erik’s other colleagues was anything to go by. So, it seemed almost impossible that, no matter how low his libido was, he didn’t feel inclined at all. Never had, and probably never would. The concept of asexuality wasn’t new to Charles, but even with his telepathy, it was foreign.

Having been introduced to sex via telepathic eavesdropping at an early age, Charles knew he was extreme the other way around. Psionics were often curious earlier than usual, and the mutation in itself was coupled with a high sex drive. If not for scientific evidence, Emma was a walking example. For Charles, that was not just theory, which was why he kept seeing Moira, even months after their emotional relationship had ended.

It would be foolish to deny he hadn’t wanted it with Erik as well. That form of intimacy was important, and despite all the talk that relationships should survive without sex, Charles wasn’t sure that they would. Much of that disbelief was rooted in the same reasons why he’d kept seeing Moira even after their relationship was dead. And it was something that he’d thought about for a while.

Something that Erik could never give him.

A brisk gale ripped down the mountain, whining in time with the rain. Shivering, Charles took a look at the dwindling fire. Putting on more wood was foolish with only the red coals there. Rolling back his shoulders, Charles leaned in and rapped on the tent flap.

“May I come in?”

There was no reply, but then the zipper opened by itself. Charles let himself in. It wasn’t much warmer in the tent, but at least the canvas was made to keep the wind out.

Erik laid atop his bedroll, hands under his head and staring into the canvas. He made no move as Charles pulled off his raincoat and boots and got into his sleeping bag. Outside, the pattering of rain soon enough lulled him to close his eyes, even though sleep wouldn’t come until the rushing mind beside him calmed down enough to let him sleep as well.

Wind ripped at the canvas, when there was a rustling right behind him. Charles turned around, a bit slow due to drowsiness. Erik was sitting up, and just when Charles was about to ask him if the unicorns had come back again, he leaned in, a heavy hand pushing down Charles’ shoulder into the sleeping pad.

In the darkness, it was hard to see anything, much less Erik’s expression.

“Erik, what – “

However, before he could say anything, Erik’s other hand slid into his hair, holding on tight as he pressed their lips together.

Charles’ mouth fell open from the sheer shock, and Erik didn’t hesitate to take advantage. He gripped Charles’ hair harder and kissed him, all wind-chapped lips and slick tongue. Charles didn’t think. It was pure instinct to close his eyes and kiss back, his mind not wholly with him. Erik tasted of coffee, a hint of salt and just as intoxicating as Charles had imagined for such a long time.

But before long, it changed. There was harshness, teeth and aggressiveness that, while  not surprising coming from Erik, made Charles hesitate given the context. He tried to pull back, only to have Erik follow, the hand in his hair holding on even tighter, like a drowning man on a lifeline.

Managing to twist his head away, Charles curled his hands around Erik’s shoulders and locked his elbows. “Erik. Stop.”

Erik’s mind was thundering. Pacing back and forth like an animal trapped in a cage, and even through the darkness, Charles could see the glint of the whites of his eyes.

“Why?” he snarled, lips pulled back from his teeth and something awfully like steeled determination in his mind. Quite a bit like discomfort too. One that was building and building like a wave and Charles pulled back before it crashed in over him.

“Why are you doing this?” Charles asked, trying to find where Erik’s eyes were. “You don’t want to.”

“I never said that,” Erik interrupted. “That’s your take on it.”

“You’re so obviously uncomfortable, Erik. Your mind, it – ” Charles swallowed. “I won’t have you pushing into something you don’t want for whatever reason you have.”

Erik huffed, and Charles had been around him for so long now, he could see him shaking his head. “I _do_ want it,” he said. “I – “

“No, you don’t. If you won’t say it, then I’ll do it for you; I don’t want you if you’re like this.”

There was a sharp drop in Erik’s mind – like he’d just stepped off a ledge. A heedless second when the body knew it was falling, but the mind hadn’t caught up with the reeling terror of rushing to your death had set in just yet. Charles nearly gasped at the intensity of it.

Instinctively, his hand curled around Erik’s wrist for some form of grounding.

Erik pulled away as if burned. The sudden absence brought Charles back to the darkness of the tent, and he blinked a couple times to find foothold again, just in time to hear Erik snort.

“Fine. Is that how it is,” he said, voice so soft Charles had to strain his ears to even hear it.

Then it hit him. “Erik, I didn’t mean it like that.“

“Just shut up, Charles,” Erik snarled, shoving him away as he reached for him again. “I heard you the first time; no need to repeat yourself.”

“You misunderstood me on purpose,” Charles bit back, suddenly very much fed up with Erik’s entitlement. “I never said I didn’t want you. I do. Very much, in fact and you do know it. But I don’t want you if you force yourself to do something you're uncomfortable with. If you don’t feel any inclination towards having sex, or even kissing me, then for God’s sake, _don’t_. Trust me when I say that it doesn’t hurt only you.”

A beat of silence. “You were in my mind.”

“Not on purpose.” Charles pinched the bridge of his nose, and muttered. “Sometimes I can’t help but overhear your very loud thoughts.”

“Then you should also know that I wasn’t forcing myself.”

“Only that you were,” Charles retorted, exasperated. “What in the world convinced you that forcing yourself was a good idea?”

“Because you want it, Charles,” Erik said, his voice centuries older than himself. “You want it.”

“No, I don’t – “

Erik snorted again, sounding mean and hurtful, and yet, so, so tired. “Yes, you do. Don’t deny it. I know what you want from me. Furthermore, I know that you crave it.”

“Don’t say it like that. I’m not some sort of mindless animal.” Charles swallowed. Once again, he cursed the thick darkness. Even if he couldn’t read much of Erik’s expressions, they were good to have to give him any kind of guideline to the mess that was the tangle of emotion currently in Erik’s mind. “Is that really what you think of me? That I’d just discard you if you told me no?”

But perhaps, the silence spoke enough.

 

“You really did think it.”

“Well, you’re still with MacTaggert.”

Trying to explain his relationship with Moira was tricky enough without someone as emotionally involved as Erik, but Charles knew he had to give it a try. He dragged a hand through his hair.

“I guess you’re right in that I truly enjoy sex,” he started, clearing his throat. “I deem it important for a functioning relationship; I like that sort of intimacy. Me and Moira, we were – not really compatible when it came to other aspects. She was not up to dealing with my bullshit, as she put it.” She’d been clear and very much the Moira he admired when she’d told him she would not be seeing him anymore. “She did however open her mind to me. Both when we were discussing things, and when we were sleeping with each other.” Not many people were comfortable with a telepath in their mind, but it was even harder to find someone who let you in both during normal conversation and sex. Charles sighed. “That’s why I kept seeing her.”

Erik made a noise in the back of his throat. “Do you still?”

“No.” Charles shook his head. “I don’t. If you don’t want me to, then I won’t. Though, I do hope that perhaps we could negotiate something if you don’t want be intimate with me.”

For a second, Erik didn’t say anything. Neither did he move. The other end of the tent was quiet, and not wanting to go into Erik’s mind and destroy everything that he’d tried to build for the past year, Charles reached up to the small light he’d hung from the tent’s ceiling.

Up until now, the darkness had concealed everything. Now, Charles could see how distraught Erik looked – with the skin around his eyes red, but his eyes also shining just slightly more than usual. Charles felt as if he’d stepped off a cliff; his stomach plummeting out of his body. He’d figured Erik would hide again, the best he could in this small space, but instead, he looked at Charles head on, like a man out of options.

“So what do you want?” Erik said, softly.

Charles sighed. “You,” he said, honestly. “However you’ll let me have you.”

Erik buried his face in his hands. “Right. And yet, you won’t let me give it to you.”

“Because you don’t _want_ to,” Charles explained, feeling the conversation circling back in on itself again.

“Stop saying that – “

“I don’t think you realize how much it hurts to have someone force themselves to do something,” Charles snapped. “It’s not pleasant; less for you, but I don’t want – “

“I didn’t want it before, _fine_ ,” Erik snarled, hands falling from his face. “Now I do. Has it even occurred to you that perhaps, I have no fucking clue what I’m doing? Dammit.”

He reached for the zipper of his sleeping bag, adamant about going to sleep again. Charles reached over, closed his hand over his.

They needed to do something about this now, or it’d fester like a sore. A part of him wanted to be mean. Be petty and selfish and act on all the frustration he’d been holding back for so long. It was a strong urge, bitter like bile on the back of his tongue.

However, if there was something Charles prided himself on, and many others with him, it was his patience. That Erik was complex as few others was not news – and Charles was ready to do a lot to understand that complexity, no matter what it took.

“I know it’s your first time,” Charles said instead. “But you don’t have to live up to some sort of standard.”

Erik sighed, tired as he looked down at Charles’ hand covering his own. “Easy for you to say.”

Nearly pulling his hand away, but knowing that would effectively end the conversation, Charles clenched his jaw. “What do you mean?”

Rubbing a hand over his eyes, Erik sighed. “You’ve slept with a lot of people, Charles,” he said, the words quiet. “Don’t tell me that doesn’t matter.”

“So what if I have?” Charles said, exasperated. “No one has to know anything. The only goal with it is for it to feel good. That’s the only thing you have to worry about, if you want to.”

For a long moment, Erik didn’t say anything. Instead, his eyes were focused on Charles’ face. Even trying to stay out the best he could, Charles could feel his mind flip in and over itself, like pages in a book. It took a while before his eyes zeroed in on Charles’ mouth for a long time.

He looked up again, meeting Charles’ eyes. “So show me.”

All the tension suddenly ran out of him, making way for a warmth that spread all the way out into his fingertips. “Only if you’re absolutely sure.”

Erik studied his face, before he shook his head. “I don’t know if I’ll like it.”

“All that’s left is to try, then.”

Charles brushed away Erik’s hair from his face. His skin was dry from the constant wind, but to Charles it felt softer than anything he’d touched. Erik’s eyes fell closed, and when Charles cupped his jaw in his hand, Erik leaned into it, almost dog-like, and Charles had to bite his tongue for a second, before he leant forward and captured Erik’s mouth in a kiss.

If had it been someone else, Charles would’ve pushed forward a lot harder. Would’ve raked up everything there was to arouse the person he was with – pinched Moira’s inner thigh, kissed behind Emma’s ear while fingering her. Here, though, it was something else entirely. With Erik, every move was to show how everything could be savoured. This time around, Erik was leaning into his hand, kissing gently as Charles raked his fingers over his scalp – tried to make Erik’s tight lips relax.

Pulling away for breath, Charles studied Erik’s face. “How’s that?”

Erik’s pupils were blown wide, his breathing heavy. He licked his lips. “Good.”

“Want more?”

That earned him a sloped smile, as Erik shook his head in exasperation. “Sure,” he said, and with his hair all disheveled, cheeks and mouth red from kissing, he was more beautiful than Charles had ever seen him.

Charles grinned too, the warmth in his stomach spreading to his scalp and toes as he leaned in again. Coaxing Erik’s stiff lips open went easier this time around, and when he pulled away to kiss his neck instead, Erik made an involuntary noise in the back of his throat. Spurred on, Charles gripped his hair a bit harder, tipping his head back to get at the spot behind his ear that made so many people shudder.

Slowly, Erik’s hands circled around his back, and with a light push, he laid down on top of his sleeping bag, Charles above him. Still being careful, Charles made sure not to put any weight on Erik in fear of making him claustrophobic – as if he had no way to stop this, in case something went wrong.

He carefully nipped at the skin on Erik’s neck, just to hear that sound again, knowing he was doing something good. The hands on his back were shaking a bit, but as Charles kissed his way back up along Erik’s jaw, they clutched him closer. Erik’s breathing was heavy in his ear, his chest shuddering with every breath.

Erik’s mind was still reeling, and even if he’d tried, Charles was unable to pull away. There was, just as Erik had said, still a bit of discomfort, not so much from what Charles was doing, but with the fact that Erik had no idea what he was supposed to do.

Giving him a small hint, Charles gripped his hand and put it up in his hair. Erik seemed to hesitate for a moment, breaths ghosting over Charles’ lips as he stared up at him, the hand slack in his hair. But when Charles gave him a small nod, he felt Erik’s hand tighten up. It was almost too hard a grip. Charles’ scalp had always, ever since his telepathy kicked into gear, been incredibly sensitive. And knowing it was Erik’s big hand pulling at his hair so hard he had to tip his head back –

Charles gasped, a moan riding on the breath.

Under him, Erik stilled. He began to sit up, eyes flickering over Charles’ face, concerned, but Charles pushed him down onto the sleeping bag again, grinning.

“Feels good,” he mumbled, and there was a slight tick of a smile in the corner of Erik’s mouth as he pulled again. At the tug, Charles moaned again, completely unable not to. Blood was rushing through his body, so close to the surface there was a throbbing at his wrists, his head and between his legs.

Leaning down, he kissed that turned-up corner, tasting Erik and catching the scent of damp wool and Erik’s skin. Under his lips, Erik opened up with a sigh, almost out of relief, and let Charles in all the way.

Outside, the rain was still pattering heavily on the canvas, but the cold didn’t seem to be able to seep through anymore. Instead, it was heating up. Charles sat up a bit, and looked down at Erik – his flushed cheeks, his hair in disarray. He was so immensely beautiful, looking younger and so alive that Charles had to swallow before he could pull his sweater over his head. He tossed it in his corner of the tent before leaning down again.

Erik’s hands were raking all over him; back, shoulders and when he got bolder, he grabbed Charles’ thigh and pulled it higher, making sure they were touching from lips to toes. A hint of desperation had been present all the while, but it only grew when Charles felt that Erik wasn’t faking his arousal.

Slowly, so as not to spook him, Charles slid his hand down to cup Erik’s hip. He’d always been tall, and lean, but his hip was still protruding enough for Charles to caress his thumb over the hollow. Erik’s lips left his neck, and he looked up at Charles with furrowed brows. Seeing the question mark in the look, Charles kissed him chastely on the lips and slid his hand lower; non-verbally asking if it was –

_may i?_

Under him, Erik stiffened. There was a small bit of fear in his mind – like the sting of biting your tongue during a meal – but it disappeared as quick as it’d come. Whether the fear was because of Charles being in his mind or what he was asking was impossible to make out, so instead Charles studied Erik’s face as he swallowed – and nodded.

Unable to hold back a smile, Charles kissed Erik’s jaw and eyelids – missing his mark a bit because Erik turned his head – before he slid his hand lower and started stroking Erik through his trousers.

At the first touch, Erik gasped. It was a high-pitched, shocked sound that made Charles’s own pulse stop, before it started rushing like crazy again when Erik made that same, throaty noise as he had before; indicating that he felt good.

Unsure how to progress, Charles regained Erik’s attention with another chaste kiss to his jaw. When Erik was looking at him, lips slick from panting, Charles tapped the button of his jeans.

“Okay?”

This time, Erik just nodded, pushing onto his elbows as Charles pulled down the zipper to touch him properly. But he fell down down again when Charles put his hands on him properly, body shivering from the contact. But his mind –

Charles had never felt anything like it. Moira’s lit up like fireworks when he went down on her, and she gave herself to the pleasure, but not even she was near the full-blown nuclear light that spread like wildfire through Erik’s mind. It was heedless and Charles almost had a blackout from the intensity.

He was kissing a line down Erik’s stomach, stopping every once in awhile to simply take in that shivering anticipation, of the best kind, radiating from Erik’s mind. He had his hands busy stroking up and down Erik’s thighs, his lips almost where they both wanted them, when Erik’s hand shot out to grip his wrist.

Charles stopped. “What is it?” he asked, trying not to let the disappointment come through. His heart was racing, and his whole body had been reduced to a throbbing pulse. But this was for Erik, not him, so stopping was crucial, no matter how bad it felt.

Erik’s face didn’t hold a trace of fear. Not in the way Charles had expected, at least. Instead, he seemed wary.

“I think they’re here,” he said, voice low.

“Unicorns?” Charles asked, sighing, and Erik nodded.

“The amulet pulsed.”

He moved Charles’s hand up to the amulet, and made him close it around it to feel the irregular pulsing of the stone within. Sighing, Charles let his head fall onto Erik’s chest. With his ear to his heart, Charles could hear it too was beating; hard, steady and fast.

“We can’t go on,” he muttered into the wool of Erik’s sweater. “They’ll skewer us.”

Erik let out a breath; one he’d been holding for a while, if the exhalation was anything to go by. “Right.”

Stroking Erik’s still heaving side, and listening to the now unmistakable sounds of unicorn mating calls just outside the tent, Charles sighed. But then, he found himself smiling, and in the next second, he huffed out a laugh.

Immediately, Erik reacted. Reaching up to assure him he wasn’t the reason, Charles patted his cheek. “Not you. I just can’t fathom we’re actually being chastised by _mating_ unicorns,” he said, snorting into Erik’s chest. “Who are they to tell us we’re corrupted?”

For a moment, Erik was silent. Then he his chest started shaking with laughter too, and soon enough they were both trying to muffle their laughter; Erik against the crook of his arm, and Charles into Erik’s chest.

“Do they consider kissing corruption?” Erik asked when he’d gotten his breath back.

Still shaking a bit, Charles shook his head. “I highly doubt it. I don’t know what their definition of sex is, actually. But kissing shouldn’t be a problem,” he said, honest. “You liked that, didn’t you?”

Erik looked down at him, and then nodded. Grinning, Charles pulled himself up a bit more, and went back to kissing Erik’s already swollen lips as the unicorns continued their mating dance outside in the rain.

 

* * *

 

Just as every morning on this damned mountain, Charles woke to the sound of rain. Blinking his eyes open, he squinted at the red tent wall. After a long time of simply making out like teenagers in the back of a car, Charles had dragged his sleeping bag over to Erik’s side and they’d zipped them together. Now, Erik was curled against his side, head resting on Charles’ arm and face pressed into the crook of his neck as he slept.

Charles brushed Erik’s hair from his forehead. If he’d looked relaxed in sleep before, it was nothing against the expression on his face now – as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders and he could breathe for the first time in weeks.

It took a lot to crawl out of the sleeping bag and locate his rain coat again. Somehow, it had managed to dry out during the night, sparing him of the fusty smell. Charles donned it and started to make breakfast again. Like the day before, Erik poked his head out the tent flap as soon as the coffee had really started to smell.

“Almost done?”  Erik’s hair was textbook bed hair, and it got even worse when he tried to smooth it out.

Charles nodded, and smiled. “Indeed.”

Disappearing in to fetch his own raincoat, Erik soon came out of the tent and sat down beside Charles, who held out a cup of coffee for him to take. Today, there were no dark circles under Erik’s eyes.

Charles took a sip of his cup. “If you don’t have anything against it, I think we should finish up our studies here.”

“Have you got what you need?” Erik pulled his knees up to brace his elbows. “In terms of photos and all.”

Charles gave him a look. “Nowhere near it. But that’s fieldwork. Then there’s the fact that they don’t act naturally with you here anyways. Sure, it lets us get close, but if you’re careful, you can make it. So the observations I’ve done goes against my hypotheses. “

Erik snorted. “Change it or bring me with you next time then.”

Taking his eyes off his coffee for a second, Charles studied the way Erik took a sip; how his throat moved as he swallowed, and the way he involuntarily licked his lips. “That won’t happen.”

“Why?”

“I simply – ” Charles said, catching Erik’s attention. “ – I want you too much. I won’t get this opportunity again, for at least a year. And to be perfectly honest with you, I don’t think I’ll be able to stay away from you for that long.”

For a second, Erik didn’t say anything. His eyes were zoned in on the opposite slope, on the small white dots of unicorn pups rolling around in the heathers. “I think the unicorns will hate you. Not only were you corrupted when you got here, but you almost corrupted a pure being on their grounds.”

Charles nearly choked on the coffee. “A pure being?” he laughed. Erik tried to give him a sour face, but it broke as there was a small tick of a smile in the corner of his mouth. Charles slid his hand down Erik’s arm, and took Erik’s hand in his. “You are a lot of things, darling, but that is taking it a bit too far.”

“Not according to unicorns,” Erik reminded him, eyes sparkling.

“I thought we established they really aren’t the best judges of character, no?” Charles reminded him, taking another sip of coffee.

Erik shook his head in exasperation and kissed Charles’ temple.

“Perhaps not.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> cw: Characters don't have the terminology to discuss demisexuality, and uses asexuality in its place. None of the characters are asexual, only demisexual.


End file.
